The Exceptional Spider-Man
by spaceyspider
Summary: With great power comes great responsibility. In the world of Earth 76-00, Nathaniel Miller is a regular high school senior who wears his heritage as a Mohawk on his sleeve. After meeting his Chemistry teacher, Professor Parker, Nathaniel is thrown into a world that needs a hero: someone like Spider-Man, even if his powers are a result of a careless accident.
1. Prologue

The costumed figure felt the cool autumn breeze dance lightly around him, swirling the decaying leaves into dancing patterns. It was October 23rd, and the city was alive with light and wonder, civilians walking up and down the streets, and Halloween decorations in every storefront. The view from the top of the apartment, doubled with the setting sun seemed like a perfect Kodak moment. Although a tingly feeling suddenly leaped onto his skin.

The costume he wore was itchy and uncomfortable and had recently begun to chafe in _sensitive_ areas. The internet had suggested lots of baby powder, or to use a gel as a lubricant to keep the thighs from rubbing against each other when he was wearing it. As much as a suit seemed like the best way to hide his identity and make encounters with undesirables a little more interesting, he couldn't afford to splurge. As a result, he'd ordered a basic stretchy suit off of the internet, McGyver-ing certain aspects to its overall design. The hood, as well as the long boots, had been a personal touch, the hood from a long costume cape at a thrift store, and the boots that used to be his uncles.

Overall, the figure and his outfit seemed threatening, but in a _different_ type of way. He seemed more like he belonged in Times Square hustling and posing for photographs than prowling the city at nighttime.

 _Bzzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzzt._ Bzzzz-

He answered the phone quickly.

"Hey, what's going on?" sounded the mature voice from the phone.

He took a break and sat down, dangling his feet over the building edge. Tonight was boring, like every other night. He needed to get out and away from his mother and grandmother. It wasn't his fault that he forgot to take out the trash. They told him late at night while he did homework on the computer WITH headphones in. That was a recipe for being ignored.

"Nothing. I'm just waiting, and waiting and-" he cut himself off, acting out a scenario in which he was slowly dying of boredom. He ended the tirade with a satisfactory 'blahhhh'.

"Jeez, stop being dramatic, Kid."

"I'm not being dramatic," he argued back. "I'm seventeen, and I should be going to a Halloween party or something instead of waiting."

the voice from the other end laughed.

"Who snuck into my lab?"

"Me," he grumbled.

"Who decided to go out and fight crime?" said the voice.

He waited for a moment. "Me."

"Exactly, you brought this on yourself." He heard a voice from the other side, something scratchy and unfamiliar.

"All units. we have a robbery at National bank on 42nd and 5th. I repeat, all units, we have a robbery-"

Finally! Some action! Some assholes who needed a good ass whooping.

"You hear that, Nathaniel?" said the voice.

"I sure did, Professor P. I'm on it."

"Good luck," a small chuckle came through the receiver, " _Spiderman._ "


	2. Chapter 1

_Dear Uncle Jed,_

 _It's been six months since you've passed. Mom and grandma think it's good that I write to you as a way of coping. But I need to tell you something. I'm New York's one and only Spiderman._

Nathaniel swung through the streets, launching webs from one post to another, gradually gaining momentum. He practically flew over cars and taxis, hoping to make it to the bank in a couple of minutes. He remembered 42nd and 5th as a hub for crime and 'activity' (as Professor Parker had said) and wanted to waste no time in knocking a few heads together.

 _I know that sounds crazy, that I'm some sort of 'hero' or something, but it's the truth. I've been this way for about...a month? two months? The time has flown by._

He heard the familiar sound of police sirens singing in the distance, letting him know that he was right on track for some 'bad muthas' as Uncle Jed would've said. The wind was blowing at his back, giving him a strong advantage and the added speed he needed. Nathaniel had gotten used to the swinging and added abilities as Spiderman, and it gave him a sudden boost of confidence.

 _I'd never been a strong kid, and you know that. In fact, I could barely do a push up before. Now you can imagine the looks on everyone's faces when they see my bench press abilities or run ten laps without breaking a sweat. I just tell them I ordered these special supplements from China or Japan, made with some essential oils or other corny BS. You'd be surprised how stupid some people can be._

Nathaniel finally reached the bank, seeing a squadron of police crowding the front entrance like a Beaverdam. From where he sat on a nearby ledge, a figure in a mask was holding a gun to the temple of what seemed to be a bank employee. With his vision drastically improving since the 'incident', he could clearly see the beads of sweat running down her face.

"Don't come any closer, or her brains will paint this goddamn sidewalk!" he screamed to the policemen. The gun was only some sort of pistol, nothing too over the top or straight out of a video game. What if spiderman used a gun? that would be way more helpful in situations like this. He could already picture Professor Parker giving him a stern lecture about how guns are bad and we should have more gun control. It's not like Spiderman would _kill_ with a gun. In fact, Professor Parker had given him a staunch list of rules he had as Spiderman.

"No pepper sprays, stun guns or tasers."

"What about brass knuckles?" argued Nathaniel.

"No. Spiderman uses his fists and feet. Y'know, for kicking, punching?"

"Why can't Spiderman have a sick, awesome utility belt?"

Professor P but a hand to his forehead. "Spiderman is combat based. You're too young to be carrying weapons."

Nathaniel thought spiderman could at least use bear repellent or some other spray type thing to ward of evildoers, but Professor P had his rules. At least when he was eighteen they could negotiate. The fact that Spiderman could have a weapon before he could drink was a tad bit exciting.

The cops seemed at a loss for how to stop the gunman and rescue the hostage, something he had become used to seeing when he became Spiderman. Sure, the cops _hated_ him. He believed it was the fact that he actually could handle crime and solve problems. new York's police force had become old and tired over the years.

"Professor P, I think I should have a catchphrase. Something like: _I, am the LAW."_

"No, no, no."

Nathaniel made a list in his head, an order of what to accomplish.

1\. Infiltrate the bank.

2\. Take down the robbers inside

3\. Rescue the hostage

The bank was bound to have some sort of exterior entrance. The back door was probably for emergencies. If he entered, an alarm would sound, and a dead teller would weigh on him for the rest of his Spidery career. He scanned the entire area, looking for at least one vent skylight. Hell, even a chimney would be good right now.

The police had gotten the call at 4:45, meaning the robbery had most likely started a good ten minutes before that. To access the vault with all the money inside would take them at least half an hour after their initial entrance to the bank. Adding in the five minute travel time, as well as the five he was using to scan the area, he had twenty minutes.

Crap.

 _'Come on, N, THINK.'_

As if hit by lightning, a realization came to him. A pile of garbage bags was outside the back, laying on the pavement.

Jackpot.

Garbage+the lazy way it was put out= Garbage disposal.

He silently swung around, seeing a flap of metal covering an opening. He dropped down, running at full speed into the den of the garbage, hitting the door with a web to hold it, and it jumped inside.

The tunnel smelled, obviously, like trash. Moldy fruit and used coffee cups, and heavily used tissues sticking to the metal walls. This was Spiderman's first low: climbing through a garbage dump.

The light at the end of the tunnel grew nearer, shining with a clean, holy light. Nathaniel spat another web from his wrist, pulling himself up, and landing in a spotless break room. The boots tracked garbage all over the nice, white floor. A dirty floor is better than a dead employee and stolen funds, right?

He heard voices coming from outside the break room and pressed his ear against the wood door. Metal on metal screeched through, a sure sign the criminals were drilling into something filled with money.

This was it. time for Spiderman to do his thing.


	3. Chapter 2

"Hey fellas!"

The robbers whipped around in a confused whirlwind, staring down the filth covered hero. A dirty napkin stuck to the bottom of his boot, and a big, green stain was on his right shoulder.

"Oh man, did I spoil your little party? Damn, I'm sorry, 'didn't know it VIP only. Maybe then I would not have bothered taking the indirect route." Nathaniel gestured up and down his uniform, while the robbers gave him a puzzling look.

"Who the hell is this guy?" said one wearing a red ski mask. "Some kind of police distraction?"

"No, no he's that uh..." the second robber scratched underneath his chin, which was covered by a dark blond beard. "The Spider-Dude!"

Nathaniel put his head in his hands, shaking it in disbelief. "Man, no wonder you guys resort to robbing banks, you're too stupid for regular jobs." He casually sauntered over to a nearby vending machine, while the robbers watched him in awe. He plucked a dollar bill from a side suit pocket and made a selection: good old Coca-Cola. He shook it aggressively, before letting it rest on a nearby ledge.

"What are you gonna do? Stop us, or take a soda break?" the robbers burst into laughter as Nathaniel slowly counted them off on his fingers.

"Well, I can safely say by the time that carbonation settles, I'll have kicked your five asses into submission."

He then sprinted full speed at the first guy, winding his ist back into a punch, yet before releasing he squirted a web from his wrist, hitting the man square in the face. Followed by a swift kick to the groin, the man was down for the count.

"That's one! Who else wants a piece of 'Spider-Dude'?"

A crook wielding a rusty pipe tried to charge him, but he vaulted over the man, doing a backflip midair. While airborne, he shot a web at the mans back, pulling him up and smashing him face first into the floor. Blood spewed from the man's head as he twitched. He shot a third web at the rusty pipe. throwing it into a third robber who fell over a ledge. Then there was two.

"This is easier than I imagined!" He shot two webs simultaneously, hitting the last two in the chest. He swung around, crooks attached, slamming them into opposite walls. From a distance away, he could the final, and oblivious one standing in front of the glass bank doorway, hostage still in hand. He ran again, becoming faster and faster until he launched himself through the glass.

The shards ripped through the suit, speckling the air with droplets of blood. Nathaniel's feet hit the robber square in the back, yet sending the hostage flying. At the last second, he hit her with a web, cradling her safely inside the sticky substance. He pushed her in the open arms of a nearby officer.

"All in a days work." he rubbed his gloved hand together, being quick to notice the suits extensive damage. A small cut here, a huge fabric tear there. He saluted in a semi-goofy way to the remaining, awe eyed officers. "Gentleman, I'll be seeing you around I'm sure." with that final regard, Spider-Man leaped into the night.


	4. Chapter 3

"Nathaniel Miller! Where the hell have you been!" his mother screamed from the kitchen. He was lucky that he had packed an extra sweatshirt to hide the minimal (and in some places not so minimal) glass damage. His mother was a no-nonsense person, and she hated when he got home late.

"Mom, please. I told you. I've been doing extra assignments for Professor Parker to get my chemistry grade up, it's no big deal."

He headed in the direction of his room before she caught him by a sweater sleeve.

"Nathaniel, you need to remember to tell me these things more than once, okay? You know I work a lot more now, and there's no excuse for no communication when you have a perfectly good cell phone."

He pulled the cell phone from his pocket, seeing a flurry of panicked 'mom' messages awaiting him.

"Jeez, cool off okay? I can't use this when I'm in the lab. it interferes with," a lie was being born on the tip of his tongue "Rays and lasers and stuff."

His mother gave him a look, filled with doubt and disappointment. "Rays and lasers? You used to be such a good liar, and look what you've been reduced to." she scooped her son up in a hug, cradling him like a little boy. "I'm working tonight, so there's pasta salad in the fridge. e good."

 _"AND WHO IS THIS SPIDER-MAN? WE FOLLOW UP WITH POLICE IN JUST A FEW MOMENTS!"_

 _"See, I was called to the scene of a bank heist, and we were at a loss due to the fact that he had a hostage. But then, this guy came in! Looked like an angel! Flew right in through that door, knocks the guy flat!"_

 _"Ma'am, what do you have to say to the person, erm, Spider-person, who saved your life tonight?"_

 _"I just want to say, thank you. I owe you so much. Please continue to help others like me, thank you."_

Nathanie turned the tv off, finishing the bowl of somewhat sour pasta salad. He rinsed his spoon under the cold water of the apartment's crappy sink and saw his reflection in it. In on life, he was Nathaniel Miller, high school senior, unrecognized talent. in another, he was the Spider-Man, a new hero for New York. But, why did he not feel at place in either identity?

 _Bzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzt._

He raced for the phone.

"Hello?"

"Good job, Spider-Man."

He laughed. "Professor P? You saw the report?"

"Pfft, Miller of course I did, every goddamn New Yorker saw that news story. You're making quite a name for yourself, aren't you?"

"Of course. Hey, can you send an email to my mom when you're not busy? something along the lines of 'Ma'am, I have a doctorate in science and phones are bad for the lab equipment.'"

"Well, if you insist? Why, is Mama Miller getting suspicious?"

"Sort of."

"Haha, well. She'll see something in her inbox tomorrow. Get a night of good sleep, Nathaniel. I'll see you at school tomorrow."


	5. Chapter 4

Midtown High was the same as it had always been. The stone walls and classic, 1950's architecture reminded everyone who went of a simpler time.

Nathaniel trotted up to the front steps, hoping to meet Professor Parker before class would start. He needed some way of being in touch with his mentor other than his cell phone. A month ago, he'd been stopping a crook who stole an old woman's purse and had been thrown to the ground. As a result, his ancient cellphone had smashed into a million pieces. Now he had been forced to use his mom's old flip phone. Nathaniel soon learned, however, that he was quicker at responding with the phones raised keyboard.

"Hey! Nate! Wait up!" He heard a female voice from behind him. His Spidey sense allowed for a heightened understanding of his surroundings.

"Oh, hi Julie."

Julie and Nathaniel had been best friends since middle school. She also happened to be the shortest girl in the senior class, clocking in at five feet exactly. Her long, purple hair was tied into a bun at the back of her head, and she wore her usual brand of Julie-Centric clothing: a black sweater, coloured tights, and high boots. Her features were quite pixie-like in nature. They contested strongly to her, six foot four, dark-haired and tanned skin best friend.

He also had a HUGE crush on her.

"Did you see the news story yesterday? That spider guy? He's so awesome! Like was all like "Take that! Pew Pew!"

Nathaniel laughed and put a hand on her shoulder. "Julie, I don't think Spider-Man uses guns."

"Pfffft. Imagine if he had some sort of nonlethal weapon built into his suit? That would be, straight out of Batman!"

He made a mental note: tell Professor Parker that weapons will help civilians become bigger Spider-Man fans.

"I guess."

"If I ever got into trouble, I'd want Spider-Man to come rescue me."

Nathaniel's face started to turn a bright crimson, but he tried to shove down the emotion as much as he could.

"I'd want him to rescue me, and maybe I'd offer to make him a better-looking suit."

His heart went from beating hard to becoming instantly deflated.

"What, you don't think his suit is cool?"

"No, it's pretty ugly looking. Looks like he bought it online. With my expertise, I could easily make a better-looking option."

He remembered that Julie was quite capable at sewing outfits and costumes. Maybe Spider-Man could send her an anonymous text sometime, and ask for a new suit.

"Julie, class starts in like, ten minutes."

She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, in an obvious showing of 'boy, do I feel dumb!'

"Professor Parker will be pissed if we miss chem."

He followed her up Midtown High's stone steps, hoping to avoid the wrath of his mentor. Julie knew that Nathaniel was part of 'extra credit' and hopefully after he graduated, Parker could get him an offer to Empire State. He'd be the first of his family to go to University.

Although, another thought crossed his mind. Would he ever tell Julie about his double life? The true reason why he was Spider-Man? Why he was so close with Professor Parker? It seemed like a whirlwind of questions and ideas. She would definitely have interest in him, but would she be in danger? Professor Parker had warned Nathaniel about the consequences. Not only could he reveal his identity, but the real REASON he had powers.


	6. Chapter 5

It was the first day of the school year. September wind rustled Nathaniel Miller's shoulder-length black hair as he approached the beast that was Midtown. It was the beginning of the end, the end of an era. In June, he'd officially be free of the high school experience. His mother warned him he'd miss it, but he didn't think much of it.

Nathaniel looked down at the scrawled sharpie writing on the inside of his palm. His first semester was a lot of sciences and mathematics, as well as a dreaded gym class. As he was enormously tall, there was a common misconception that he was an athletic superstar. In reality, it was quite the opposite. He was lanky, awkward and had horrible hand-eye coordination. Besides his height, his grip strength was minimal.

Everyone in Midtown has returned in their new clothes. Designer shoes and jackets, new phones and backpacks. Nathaniel was a sore thumb in the crowd, wearing the same old outfit he always had. It was the result of a late night thrift store hunt with his uncle last year. They never really had any money on hand, and despite Nathaniel's intellect, he knew he'd never be able to go anywhere after high school. He'd work with his uncle in the construction yard.

Nathaniel's morning class was Chemistry. A personal favourite of his. Science didn't care that you were poor, or that your clothes had little holes. Or that you had the same backpack since eighth grade. Science was unbiased and full of fact, an instant recipe for Nathaniel's unbridled attention.

He made his way upstairs to the second floor, looking for the number. 204, 204 where could you be? He stared at his hand, then up at the doors, then down at his hand again. Walking forward, he ran into a solid object.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Nathaniel stumbled back, looking up at the figure he had collided with.

He was a man of about 30, with a 'modern' looking haircut, a long brown top and short sides. His ears were a chocolate colour, while his body was sturdy. He wore a turtleneck, with slacks and dress shoes. His eyes were adorned with a thick pair of glasses. A regular, hipster-esque Pointdexter

"No need to apologize. It's easy to get lost in here. I think I know my way around." He adjusted his glasses using his pointer finger and glanced at the numbers on Nathaniel's hand.

"Hmm, 204? That's my class."

He smiled at Nathaniel. "I'm Professor Parker, and I'm your teacher."

Nathaniel's mouth dropped. He always imagined his teacher would be some old guy who no hair, instead of this nerdy guy.

"I can show you where it is. I take it you're new here?"

He followed Professor Parker down the hallway, listening to him speak.

"No, actually." He coughed, "well, not really. I was here last year. I used to live in Chinatown until we moved here. I'm just forgetful."

Professor Parker smiled warmly, putting a hand on his shoulder with a reassuring grip.

"I used to live in Chinatown. Nice area...sometimes. Ah, here it is."

He motioned to the door of one of the labs. Filled were seats of students Nathaniel didn't recognize. They were all strangers, people he should've known, but would never be able to recall their names if someone asked.

"Hello everyone, sorry I'm late, but I was taking a stroll with um," he snapped his long fingers as a way of remembering, but couldn't get the thought to the tip of his tongue. "What's your name again?"

The class laughed pitifully. Nathaniel hung his head in embarrassment. "My name's Nathaniel. Uh, Nathaniel Miller."

Professor Parker nodded his head. "Hm, nice name. Anyway, sit down, and let's begin."

The class continued as usual, with an intro to chemical equations, as well as formulas and reactions. He handed out the syllabus, explained the units and assignments.

"Your first assignment is an 'All About Me'."

The class groaned a collective, painful gasp.

"I know, I know. You're frustrated. Just take it as an easy 10%. Write about yourself, your goals for your senior year. Two pages."

The bell rang, signaling the start of the next period. The rest of the class had left, and Nathaniel piled his binders and textbooks into his ratty, old' backpack.

"Miller. Hold on a second." He turned to see Professor Parker beckoning him to his desk. He had a blue pen, clicking it in his hand over and over. Parker motioned to Nathaniel's hand.

"Is that your bag?"

"Uh, yeah." He showed his teacher his bag, the straps were barely hanging on.

"Looks pretty old. Haven't you ever thought of investing in a new one?"

Nathaniel thought about it. He didn't really pay attention to his bag.

"No. Not really, it works fine I guess." He looked at it.

Professor Parker shook his head. He took out his bag, a new red and blue backpack, practically shining in the light from the window.

"Take it, Nathaniel. You need it more than I do." He gestured the bag Nathaniel's way.

Could Nathaniel reject a teacher? It seemed rude. Maybe he did need a new school bag. He reluctantly held his hand out, accepting it.

"This is nice and all, but don't get an idea that I'm some sort of, charity case or something, sir."

He laughed. "I never said you were, Nathaniel. Think of it as a gift, for a great start to a new school year."

Professor Parker's eyes shone with a kindness Nathaniel barely knew. He smiled back weakly.

"Thank you, Professor Parker."

"You're welcome, Nathaniel. And just so you know, it's Peter."


	7. Chapter 6

"Hey, nice backpack." Julie was already at the usual lunch table, drinking some kool-aid from a reusable bottle. she LOVED the stuff, meanwhile, Nathaniel couldn't stand it. Julie also had a gross habit of mixing all the different powders into one 'super flavor'. when she'd shown him her creation for the first time, the taste was alright. Yet, it didn't stop from wreaking havoc on his stomach. He'd spent the whole night puking.

"Right? I got it from Professor Parker." he admired the backpack proudly, seeing the intricate designs and well-made material it was rafted from. It seemed like such a simple thing, to have a nice, well-made bag. Unfortunately, it was something he didn't often get.

It seemed wrong. To hide your economic status from everyone. When his uncle was still alive, they'd at least been able to afford groceries and electricity. Now, however, they relied on food stamps. Nathaniel was probably the only kid in the entirety of Midtown high who paid for his own phone bill. He scrounged up money in the oddest of places for the past four years, from fast food joints to under the table labor to babysitting to mowing lawns. At his lowest, he'd held a sign advertising a pizza place on a street corner for a few months. Whatever income he didn't use for school lunches and his phone, he'd pour into the apartment's bills.

It was strange not having his uncle around. they'd always been a team. He'd been more than an uncle. He was a mentor, he was a person he could tell anything to, hell, he was a _father._ Nathaniel's father was never around. He'd deserted his mother during her pregnancy, and left her alone with a newborn baby. No child support, no calls or birthday cards or gifts. His uncle had stepped up, helping his little sister and his baby nephew. He had admired him for that. their family was small, but they relied on each other.

That's why it had been such a shock when he had died.

He'd had a pain in his chest that morning. Nathaniel had tossed him a bottle of painkillers, and his mother had told him to ask the foreman to go home early that day. His uncle had gotten into the car, and drove away. thirty minutes later, they'd received the call. A man had suffered a heart attack while driving, crashing into a tree. Luckily, no one had been hurt in the collision. They couldn't afford a funeral, so he was cremated and now sat on a ledge in the living room, beside a picture of his uncle back in his glory days.

Sometimes, Nathaniel replayed the moment over and over in his head. In a perfect world, he would've told his uncle to rest or to go to a hospital. They would've called an ambulance. He wouldn't have just told him to take a pill and work it off. His mother would've paid for attention: they could've stopped it.

But it wasn't a perfect world. It was a shitty world. It was a world where good people died and thieves could live until they were one hundred years old. It made him sick to think about sometimes.

"Sorry I missed chem. Theresa would NOT get out of the bathroom. You know how the middle school starts like, an hour later. How privileged is that? I wish when we were in middle school we started at 9:45." Julie was sculpting a mountain out of her gluey mashed potatoes, but right now it was only a molehill. Nathaniel listened to Julie go on and on about middle school, her dad's new job, her brother's latest entrepreneurial venture with lemonade. She had this habit of talking, no matter who was or wasn't listening. Her voice, along with all the background noise had melted away, and he just watched her lips move as she talked.

How long had he liked her? It seemed like forever since they'd known each other. His thoughts of his uncle disappeared and were replaced by thoughts of Julie. Of course, they were best friends. everyone knew that. It was as real as gravity, or hating infomercials.

The ringing bell brought his Julie filled brain to a halt. She gave him a wave and ran toward the doors outside, heading to her art class in the next building. He smiled back at her, a warm genuine smile that made his heart beat fast. Nathaniel looked down at his hand, struggling to read the smudged writing that had only this morning been pristine. He had not memorized his classes yet, but he knew he definitely did not have a spare this period. Maybe he had put a paper copy in the bag? Professor Parker had handed out the schedules this morning. His hand moved like a tornado through the bag, searching through every nook and cranny. How could one backpack be like a bottomless pit? It seemed impossible.

 _Clink._

His hand had hit something, in some sort of back pocket. His grasp quickly found a small vial, capped by a rubber stopper. Nathaniel pulled the vial up to his face, examining the top of the stopper. It had tiny pin like holes decorating the rubber. For what? He lifted up the vial to see what was inside.

Climbing on the glass, seeming to look straight at him, was a tiny red spider.


	8. Chapter 7

The Spider was approximately the size of his thumbnail, climbing on the walls of the vial. Its underbelly was a dark black, almost void like as it seemed to stare into Nathaniel's being. He'd never seen any bug quite like this one. Maybe it was a newly discovered species? Maybe it was plucked straight off of a tree trunk in the deepest bowels of the Amazon jungle. Whatever it was, it did NOT look friendly.

At the nearest sight of motion, it became aggressive and erratic, trying in vain to escape its glass confinement. Nathaniel was almost shocked at how angry the spider seemed, trying desperately to attack.

 _What in the world was Professor Parker doing with a spider? In a school? In his backpack?_

It must've been a mistake, there was no possible explanation for why Professor Parker would plant a spider for him to find. Should he give it back? Probably. In New York State were spider's considered personal property? it was settled inside his mind: he'd go find Professor Parker right now, give him his weird little pet and get the hell out.

It was easy as-

As he got up, his feet seemed to become tangled in one and other, causing him to fall forward, flat on his face. The vial hit the floor was a quiet and unclimactic smash. The spider was finally free.

the first thing it did was a search for the nearest thing to take out its anger on. The fleshy hand of a teenage boy seemed to do the trick. It scuttled onto the top of Natahiel's right hand, aiming for a vein and...

 _Bite._

Nathaniel got up in a rush, looking at the creature that now lay dead on his skin. Oh my god, he had killed it.

Or had it killed itself? He wondered if the spider's bite was a one-time affair, as the stinger of a bee was. He stared at the bite, a huge swollen bump that was starting to envelop his knuckle. Damn, that spider did mean business.

"Holy shit. What am I going to tell Professor Parker?"

 _'I'm very sorry sir, I accidentally killed your spider.'_

Maybe the spider wasn't even important. Maybe it was just something he'd found in a park and thought it had looked interesting. He'd wait for Professor Parker to come to him. He'd play stupid. "Spiders, what are spiders? Never seen one before on my life. I used to think they were like unicorns."

This was going to be a big problem.


	9. Chapter 8

"Wow, that is a lot of books!" Claimed the librarian. Nathaniel stood behind the massive stack of encyclopedias, research guides and even a children's book which was a guide to common garden spiders. He had been scouring the school library for an hour, looking up anything remotely related to arachnids and other eight-legged creatures.

"Uh, yeah. I'm doing a project on…spiders." He answered dishonestly. If only it was a school project, rather than a mission to see whether he would die from a spider bite or not.

"Well, have fun then." Chirped the librarian. She scanned all of his research materials and sent Nathaniel on his way.

He spent the next two hours pouring over the pile of books, trying to find the one spider that had bit him. He saw big spiders, small spiders, microscopic spiders, spiders that lived in water, spiders that ate fish. Spiders that could grow to the size of a CD. He felt a shiver travel down his spine. All these different spiders and none of them could be the one that had bitten him. He read the books, once, twice, three times. Nothing matched.

He slumped back in the uncomfortable library chair, putting his hands over his face. There was nothing. It was beyond frustrating. The library had been a bust. Should he go to the hospital? Maybe the spider wasn't even dangerous at all. It seemed like his brain had concocted a worried cocktail, swirling the fruit of doubt around in his mind. Nathaniel reached into his bag, pulling out a piece of paper and a mechanical pencil.

 _To whom it may concern_ , he began.

 _My name is Nathaniel Miller. I'm a high school senior who lives with my mom, in an apartment in the north part of Chinatown, in New York City. Today, I was bitten by a spider, left inside my backpack by my chemistry teacher. It sounds fake, but why else would I lie?_

 _I'm probably going to end up dead. It sounds really horrible, and tragic. I'm terrified. If you find this, please tell my mom that I love her. Tell her to cremate me._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Nathaniel._

He put the pen down, and sweat began to roll down from his forehead to his cheeks. What would he do? He couldn't go back to Professor Parker. Definitely, not. His life was over.

He picked up one of the spider books, his mind attempting to make him once again dig through its pages.

"This is absolutely useless." And he put the book down.

Or, rather, he _tried_ to put the book down.

It was stuck.

How in the world was it stuck? He waved his hand around lightly, trying to see if maybe the bond between his skin and the cover would break. Nothing seemed to work.

"What the hell?" He put his other hand on the book, seeing if he could pull it free. However, the exact same scenario occurred. Now both of his hands were stuck to the opposite sides of the book. Was there some sort of glue on the book? It was fine before! There had to be a plausible explanation. However, no plausible ideas came to mind.

 _Spiders are primarily known for their abilities to stick to a variety of surfaces._

A passage from the book jumped into his mind. Spiders could obviously stick to surfaces. People, however, could _not_.

What if a person was bitten by a spider? Then could they? His jaw dropped open, his eyes widening in a feat of shock. The book dropped off of his hands.

Nathaniel got up, running to the library's closest bathroom. His stomach seemed to be doing flip-flops, a menagerie of gymnastics and somersaults. He needed to puke, to get everything out of his system. Could spiders puke? Humans could.

Nathaniel burst into the closest stall and kneeled over the porcelain throne. He tried to get it up, but nothing happened. Not even a trace of stomach bile. It felt pitiful, attempting to make himself sick.

 _Spiders are primarily known for their abilities to stick to a variety of surfaces._

He was definitely overthinking. If he tried to stick to the bathroom wall right now, it wouldn't work…right?

He pressed his hand against the grimy wall of the bathroom stall, attempting to press his skin to make a sticky bond. It didn't seem to work until he tried to pull away once more. It didn't work, his hand stuck just like it was to the book.

He pressed his other hand against the wall. It stuck too.

What was happening to him?


	10. Chapter 9

After thirty minutes of trying to unstick from the disgusting bathroom wall, Nathaniel was on another bus back to his Chinatown apartment. The balled up 'final note' was crinkling around in his pocket, a constant noisy reminder of what his life had become. He could stick, his body seemed familiar as it had always been, yet extremely alien. He had a strange and worrying thought in the back of his mind, that he would wake up in his bed, completely turned into a spider. A bastard-like metamorphosis. The thought made Nathaniel shiver.

He'd go home, make some cereal, watch a movie and lie down. Maybe he'd use the internet, try to look up more information that may not have been present in all of his books.

The wind seemed colder, making Nathaniel want to curl up into the fetal position. He hugged his coat and bag to his chest and trudged through the strong gusts that knocked over garbage cans and stray trash. The building was so close, the ancient-seeming red brick beckoned him home. The entire day had been surprising after surprise after a horrible turn of events.

They'd lived in the apartment since his uncle died. Before, they'd managed to afford a relatively cheap rental house in Midtown, before they lost almost all of their money trying to pay off debts and the costs for the burial and the funeral. At least the apartment's landlord as sympathetic to their plight (albeit somewhat). The apartment only had two rooms, a small kitchen and a living room that doubled as the 'dining room'. Nathaniel took the smaller room, which included a smaller bed. A measly single bed, his feet often hung over the edge in an uncomfortable fashion. He bore it, and it wasn't worth complaining about it to his mom. It would just make her more stressed.

Nathaniel reached the door, fishing the keys out from his coat pocket, and clunkily slamming the key into the door. It shuddered with a creak before giving him access.

The apartment only had four floors, two rooms on each. two other families lived in the apartment, but the rest were occupied by other single people, couples, or the rare elderly person. Nathaniel lived on the fourth floor, across from a young couple who were both at Empire State. Sometimes when they picked up mail at the same time, Nathaniel would pick their brains about what it was like in University. It was sort of endearing at first but gradually grew to an obvious annoyance. He didn't get mail with the couple anymore.

The stairs leading to the fourth floor were slippery, most likely from just being washed. His limbs felt like bricks, weighing him down and making is movements become progressively more sluggish with every painful step. Nathaniel finally reached their apartment, number 8, and let himself in.

He and his mother were both busy, so the apartment wasn't cleaned as often as it should've been. dust covered the bookshelf, and the counters had some particularly grimy bits. He dropped his bag on the old couch and lumbered to the cupboards in the kitchen to find the cereal. The only thing left was a can of beans and a box of captain crunch. He held it close to his ear, shaking to hear if anything was inside.

...Nothing.

 _BAM BAM BAM._

A loud knocking irrupted his thoughts. It was aggressive, almost threatening. Nathaniel froze, listening to the knocking become increasingly louder and louder, more forceful and angry. He crept toward the door. There was a small peephole where he could look through, to see the person on the other side. Before he could reach it, however, it swung open.

Standing in the doorway was a disheveled Professor Parker.

"Nathaniel! Where is it!" Parker ran up to him, grabbing him by his shoulders. Nathaniel was in his grasp and watched as Professor Parker's eyes darted everywhere, seemingly scanning his body, then the rest of the room, until his eyes finally laid on the backpack he had gifted to Nathaniel earlier in the day.

Nathaniel was pushed back by Parker, and he ran to the couch, pulling all the contents out of the bag. He then turned it upside down, shaking out all of the books and papers and pencils Nathaniel had put them in there earlier in the day. His hands dug through the bag like a frenzied animal, looking for any trace of something Nathaniel had known about all day.

He must've been looking for the spider.


End file.
